


new beginnings

by passionatememes



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Oops, apocalypse baby, canon-typical flesh monsters, jon and georgie friendship, jon and martin become dads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23381602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/passionatememes/pseuds/passionatememes
Summary: He returned back to his full height with a writhing bundle in his arms. It was crying, louder now, and Jon held it close to his chest, muffling its cries and rocking back and forth gently. His expression was carefully guarded, looking at the bundle intently.“.... Jon…?”“It’s a baby, Martin,” Jon whispered.
Relationships: Georgie Barker/Melanie King, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 10
Kudos: 191





	new beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this before the s5 trailer dropped and then completely forgot about it, so there's probably some inconsistencies with canon now   
> Also I'm an artist by trade so apologies for any writing mistakes!!!!

“Martin, stop.”

It came out of Jon’s mouth, barely a whisper. Could be dangerous to make much noise, especially in the ruined world. Martin froze, looking around and then back at Jon, mouthing a quiet ‘what is it?’, careful not to speak. Jon looked around, scanning their surroundings, looking for movement. If he had more energy, he would use his powers to See, be certain if there was danger around, but, well… it had been a long time since he had eaten. The watcher wasn’t keen to help him out without Jon feeding it in return.

There it was again, a faint yell, not angry, but… in distress? Jon focused his sight on a small shed and walked closer, pulling his axe out of its holster on his hip, just in case. Something horrible might mimic a cry, getting people to come closer. Martin was close behind, scanning behind them just in case. The cries grew louder, and Jon slowly opened the door to the shed, wrinkling his nose at the smell of rot and death that had become unsettlingly familiar in the past few months. 

Then he gasped, softly. Behind him, Martin tensed, reaching out to grab Jon and pull him away. Jon slipped the axe back in the leather loop on his belt and bent down. 

He returned back to his full height with a writhing bundle in his arms. It was crying, louder now, and Jon held it close to his chest, muffling its cries and rocking back and forth gently. His expression was carefully guarded, looking at the bundle intently. 

“.... Jon…?” 

“It’s a baby, Martin,” Jon whispered, glancing up at him. He blinked away tears he hadn’t expected to find in his eyes and wrapped the dirty blanket around it tighter. “I-- it-- they, her parents, in there, s-she was just barely spared, hidden behind everyo--” Jon swayed on his feet slightly and paled considerably as visions of the carnage flashed in his mind. Martin reached for him and he leaned against him, taking deep breaths. The child continued to cry, softer now. 

“What… what do we do? With it?” 

Jon’s arms tightened protectively around the bundle in his arms. “Protect her. Keep her with us,  _ Christ _ , Martin, what else would we do-” 

“I-- that’s not what I meant. Keep her with us… forever?” 

After a moment, Jon let out a hollow chuckle. “We  _ were _ talking about adopting a cat…”

“ _ Jon. _ ” 

“ _ I don’t know _ , Martin, this isn’t the time to be discussing this! She-- I don’t think she’s eaten in quite a while.” Jon closed his eyes, furrowing his brow as he concentrated. Swayed on his feet again. 

“Stop doing that!” Martin caught him before he fell. “Stop trying to Know things on purpose. You need to save your energy.”

“Formula, food, in the kitchen, the house--” he shook his head and shook off Martin’s concerned grasp, walking towards the house. Martin sighed, following him, keeping an eye out for any sign of danger as per usual.

\----

Jon was sitting on the floor. He had tried the couch, but the amount of dirt that had stained his pants when he got up made him uneasy. Floor might be safer, just in case. The baby, laid against his chest, held in a handmade sling he had found in one of the rooms and a bottle, her lunch, laid empty next to him. Food had been what she needed, and after eating (and keeping down a solid 72% of it, Jon Knew), she had fallen asleep quickly. 

Jon watched her, feeling the small being’s chest rise and fall with each tiny breath. It was mesmerizing, and he couldn’t help himself, leaning down and placing a small kiss with chapped lips onto the crown of her head. 

“Do you know her name?” Martin asked from his seat at the table a few feet away. He was restocking their supplies with whatever helpful things he had found in the house, trying to squeeze in baby supplies alongside the rest of their necessities. 

“Capital K ‘know’?” 

“Either.”

“Nope. Beholding doesn’t care to tell me, and I’m…” He sighed, pausing for a moment. “... Not much in the way of documents in the house, either.” 

“Mm.” Martin maneuvered a particularly tricky set of cloth diapers into their bag. 

“Should we… give her one?” 

“Well, we need to call her something.” 

“That’s a terrible name for a baby, Martin.” 

There was a beat as the two looked at each other, humor glinting in Jon’s eyes. Martin grinned. 

“Well, you’re not much better with names, if you’re planning on naming her in the style that you name animals.” 

“It’s perfectly acceptable to name  _ cats _ ridiculous names,” Jon started. Martin opened his mouth, but Jon continued on. “And my cat names are the best, thank you very much.” 

“You’re ridiculous.” 

“I’ve been told.” Jon went quiet for a moment, thinking, looking down at the sleeping child as she slept in his arms. “Martin, should we… ah… should we name her Sasha?” 

Martin froze, glancing over at Jon. He was quiet for a long moment.

“... Yeah. Yeah, I think she probably would have liked that.”

“I hope so.” Jon kissed Sasha’s head again. “Alright, little Sasha. You’re with us now.” 

\--- 

Travelling with a baby was  _ hard _ , as it turns out. 

Jon was grateful for the fact that Sasha wasn’t a particularly fussy baby, she seemed to cry as much as any other baby (not that either of them had much experience), but seemed to be content to be carried in the sling that Jon kept on him, resting her head on Jon’s chest. Jon fell into the habit of wrapping his arms around her, protecting her as much as physically possible, and Martin walked in front of both of them, ready to shield them from danger. 

But at the end of the day, Sasha was still an infant, and their pace had slowed down considerably. They decided to stop for the night, making camp for the night in an empty house, still a good ways away from any solid town. It looked cold, abandoned, but it was a shelter and would hide them away from the night. A pretense of safety, at least, though a locked door wouldn’t keep them any safer than the open air. 

After a quick sweep to make sure nothing untoward was occupying the house already, Jon sat down on the floor, trying not to jostle Sasha, who slept against his chest. Carefully, he took the sling off and held her without it, while Martin set up a small nest of blankets on the ground, laying on top of their coats instead of the dirty carpet. When Jon moved to place her down on her bed for the night, her eyes opened slightly and she reached out for him, tiny hands reaching and taking a firm grasp on his fingers and not letting go. 

“.... Jon? Are you alright?” Martini’s voice came softly, gently from next to him, sounding concerned. Jon blinked, realizing that there were tears on his cheeks, shaking his head to clear them. He lifted Sasha back up and held her tightly, rocking his entire body back and forth to lull her back to sleep, and to try to get his thoughts in order. 

“I…” His voice cracked, he tried again “Martin, she’s so  _ small _ . So  _ young. _ She has to grow up in this world like  _ this,  _ I-” 

Martin kissed one of his cheeks, placing a hand on the other. “Jonathan Sims, I love you very much, but if you are about to blame yourself for this, something that was  _ not your fault _ , I may lose it.” 

“It  _ is _ my fault, though! We can’t go about this pretending it isn’t!”

“It isn’t! You can’t blame yourself for what he did to you!” Martin, bit his lip to stop shouting, took a deep breath, and then quieter: “Sorry. I know it isn’t that easy to… to change the way you see it.” 

Jon was quiet, face unreadable behind his hair as he looked at the ground. “... yeah.”

Sasha squirmed in his arms, and then began to cry. 

Martin flinched at the sound, blinking and looking at the child, as Jon quickly held her tighter, brow furrowing as he ran through a mental checklist of what might be wrong. He pressed her against his chest protectively, both holding her to comfort, and to muffle her cries, not wanting to draw attention from the eldritch monsters that were out and about.

“Martin, can you… ah, … “ Jon paused, lifting Sasha up quickly and sniffing, making a face. “Diapers, in the bag, please. And uh, wipes? Do we still have any?”

Martin grabbed their bag from near the doorway, rummaging through it for the requested supplies. 

“Do you even  _ know _ how to change a diaper, Jon?”

“Can’t be too hard, right? I’ll figure it out.” 

Working as fast as possible, for both purposes of getting Sasha to quiet down for safety, and for her to be back bundled up in the cold house, Jon managed to change her diaper and get her back wrapped up in blankets, letting her fall back asleep against his chest. He pulled a blanket around the both of them, offering it to Martin as well, who shook his head, wanting to get their bedroll laid out and ready. It was quiet for a bit, as both let themselves simmer in their thoughts. 

“Are we parents, now, Jon?” 

“Mm?” Jon lifted his head from where he had been resting it, eyes half closed already. 

“Her, Sasha, are we… after all of this is over, is she staying with us?” 

Jon looked down at the sleeping child, the weight of her already a familiar comfort despite it still being so new.

“I… I don’t know, it’s something we should talk about and agree upon, but I… I’d like to keep her, I think.” It was barely a whisper. 

Martin walked over and pressed a kiss to the top of Jon’s head, brushing his hair out of the way and pressing his lips against his forehead as well. “Alright.” 

“... Is that okay?”

“It’s… unexpected, but I’m not against it.” Martin grinned. “Besides, you’re cute when you take care of her. Who would have known that Jonathan Sims of all people is good with kids behind that prickly exterior.” 

Jon smiled back, taking one of Martin’s hands in his. “A plot twist indeed.”

The rest of the evening passed without much fanfare. They went through their usual routine of setting up the bedroll, double-checking the house for anything off, and then sliding into bed, this time, with Sasha laying between them, sleeping peacefully. Jon stared at her for a long time, pure love and admiration showing plainly on his face, and then looked up and met Martin’s eyes with the same expression, and Martin’s heart skipped a beat. Even after all this time, he’d still fall deeper in love with this silly man.

“Goodnight,” Martin managed, flushing red from the intense gaze. Jon blinked, also turning red, suddenly aware of the heart-eyes expression that had been so plain on his face.

“Goodnight, Martin. Sleep well.” 

Martin leaned over and kissed Jon goodnight, then rolled over, his breaths evening out as he fell asleep. 

\---

Jon couldn’t sleep. 

This wasn’t a rare occurrence. Sleep was often elusive, and sleep that was actually  _ restful _ was even more so, even before The Change. With nothing to focus on, the grief and terror of the world was overwhelming, making him feel hollow.

He sighed softly, getting up and walking over to the bookshelf in the corner of the room, careful not to make any sound. A book would be a distraction, it was fine. 

As he was pondering the decision between a very dense book on health and ethics or a teen novel about fantasy knights, he heard a small noise from the bed. Sasha was moving around, trying to sit herself up. 

“You should be asleep,” he whispered, walking over and picking her up. She stared up at him with big eyes, clumsily grabbing some of his hair and pulling on it.

“Ouch, ouch, ouch, okay, you win, you can stay up. It’s not a very exciting night, though.”

Sasha looked intently at him. 

“Not exciting is quite a good thing, you’ll be missing nights like these when we run into some trouble and have to keep moving for days on end. Better to enjoy the calm when we have it, yeah?” 

Jon began to pace silently around the room with her, swaying back and forth. 

“I don’t need to be explaining how the world works to you, you’ve had first-hand experience with death and gore. Horrible, especially for someone so young.” His arms tightened automatically around her. “I won’t let that happen again. I, ah… Listen, Sasha, I’m not… the best person. Not even technically a person anymore, there’s all this stuff that had to do with it, and I made a choice, and then came back, and then I eat-- ah… and I know things, and I couldn’t cut my finger off, and then I caused, well, Martin is convinced  _ I _ didn’t cause it, and-- hey!.” 

Jon scowled at Sasha, who had grabbed his nose and was staring up at him. “I know none of that means anything to you, but what I was  _ trying _ to say, little one, is that I promise I’ll protect you with all I have, okay? I won’t let anything or anyone hurt you.” 

Sasha let out a small giggle as Jon talked, still holding his nose in her small hands, and Jon smiled, continuing his pace around the room. 

“I just wanted to make that clear. Sounds good?” He kissed her forehead, rocking her gently. After a bit, when she smiled as her eyes closed once again and she fell asleep, Jon smiled in return, feeling her little arms wrapped around his neck and little face smushed against his shoulder. She remained asleep as he laid back down, careful not to jostle her, and curled up against Martin, who, though still fast asleep, smiled and wrapped his arms around the both of them. 

When they woke up in the early hours of the morning, the world continued to be quiet, calm. Jon awoke first, keeping himself still as he listened for any hint that something might be coming for them (a habit he adopted after the first week of rude interruptions by eldritch horrors), but there was nothing he could sense. 

“... Anything coming?” Martin’s voice came from beside him, thick with sleep as he rolled over, careful not to squish Sasha, who slumbered peacefully between them. 

“I… no, I-I don’t think so? We haven’t come across anything in two days now, it feels…” 

“Feels wrong, yeah,” Martin finished for him. “Maybe we’re just lucky?” 

Jon forced out a short laugh. “Maybe if we were anybody else, but….”

“Yeah.” 

They were both silent for a moment, then Jon got up in a tumble of limbs and blankets, standing still when he stood, body tense. Martin opened his mouth to ask, but Jon put his hand up, a quiet request for silence. They both held their breath, listening to nothing, before Jon relaxed and shook his head, stumbling to sit down on the nearest chair, head swimming with the weight of Knowing that nothing was in the immediate vicinity. 

“W-we’re, we-- it’s… we should be okay,” he managed out, taking his glasses off and rubbing his temples wearily. “Nothing I could See.” 

“Alright. We’ll just stay here for a bit, then? Maybe it’s a good hiding spot? We could use a little bit to get things in order, maybe restock?”

“... Yeah, that sounds… that sounds nice.” Jon nodded, placing his glasses back on and looking fondly at Martin, then staggered up again to start their day.

\---

The day passed uneventfully, for the most part. They had breakfast, the three of them sitting at the kitchen table, Martin giving Sasha spoonfuls of green goop that was labeled as ‘mashed peas and spinach’ while Jon simply watched. The rest of the day was spent taking stock of their possessions, looking around for anything new that would be useful, and cleaning what they already had. There wasn’t any hot water, but they were pleased to find that the gas stove still worked well enough to be lit, even without electricity, so they took the opportunity to wash with stove-warmed water and a washcloth. Not comfortable, but better than nothing, they decided. It was mid-afternoon, and they were resting comfortably, Jon reading a book, Martin scribbling something down in a notepad, and Sasha laying on Jon’s jacket on her stomach, playing with his old Institute keys (he had washed them thoroughly and disinfected them, of course). 

Jon paused with a sudden awareness.

“Martin.”

“Mm?”

“Tape recorder.” 

Martin’s face grew pale. “You heard one? Here?” 

“ _ Yes, _ why else would I be telling you?! We need to go,  _ now _ .” He scooped Sasha up, ignoring her cries as she was quickly bundled into the sling and pressed closely against Jon’s chest. Martin launched into motion, swiftly packing up the rest of their things, cramming as much as he could into bags and tossing one to Jon, who carried it on his back as he tried to get Sasha to stop crying. 

“Jon, do you know wh-”

“ _ No _ idea, I-I can’t see- nothing’s coming through, we need to  _ go _ \--” 

There was a giant crash of the front door being forced open, and Jon flinched, curling himself around the child in his arms as she let out a wail. Martin was finished with their things and drew a knife as they ran towards the back of the house, towards a back door, or a window,  _ something _ to get them out of there, out of danger. 

“Jon!” Martin yelled, eyes widening as they came to an abrupt stop. “Keep  _ running _ , come on, we-”

“Martin,” Jon said, quiet, his voice shaking. “Martin, it’s a dead end, they boarded up all the windows when things started, all the rooms are blocked off,  _ there’s nowhere else to go _ .” 

“What do we do, then?!” 

There was a wet slapping noise as something much too squishy and with too many limbs made its way to the back of the house, Jon and Martin both shrinking back, Martin in front, and Jon pressing his back up against the wall. When it rounded the corner, they were able to see it in all it’s proper glory: a towering being made of meat haphazardly placed upon itself. There were flies swarming it and the smell of rot and decay filled the hallway, making Jon’s eyes water. It began to move forward, forcing its horrible body into the hallway, not paying attention to the pieces of flesh that were forced off it by the too-small doorway with a horrible ripping sound. 

Jon let out a harsh breath and held onto Sasha, who was screaming into his chest with all the might of her tiny lungs. In front of them, Martin gripped his knife tighter, though it seemed as useful as a toothpick would be, with the pure size of the monster. It was coming closer, and this was going to be it, unless one of them _did_ _something_. 

Jon stepped forward, past Martin, holding protectively onto Sasha, but looking directly at the monster, as it met his gaze with too many eyes filled with decay and blood. 

“Jon--” 

Jon ignored Martin, focusing all of the energy he had left onto staring at the being. He stared at it, filled with disgust, hatred, the knowledge that  _ he was going to protect his family if it was the last thing he did _ . 

The monster froze, trembling like it was trying to take a step forward, or move its arm, but it was as if he was held in place. Jon deepened his stare and let out a breath as he forced the knowledge of his love into this horrible being. Martin was saying something, but he couldn’t make it out, and his legs gave out under him, crumpling beneath his weight. He felt Martin catch him before he hit the ground, arms still wrapped tight around Sasha, holding her with all the strength he still had in him. There were loud noises-- gunshots? Distantly, he could hear people talking-- shouting? It was all so  _ loud _ , and Sasha was still screaming in his arms, and he was  _ so tired _ . 

“... Jon? Martin? That really you guys?” 

“Is that a  _ baby _ ?!” 

Distantly, he felt himself being picked up, brought over to a couch, and set down, Martin looking at him with concern. He closed his eyes, rocked back and forth, mostly for Sasha’s sake, but also to ground himself back in his aching body. When he opened his eyes after Sasha was finally able to calm down enough to stop screaming (though she still cried), he blinked as he saw Georgie, Basira, and Melanie standing before him. 

“I… huh?”

“Jonathan Sims,” Georgie said, her eyes flickering back and forth from Sasha to Jon, “where did you get this child?!” 

“I found her.”

“ _ Where _ ,” Basira chimed in, looking equally astonished. 

“Can we  _ not _ interrogate Jon right off the bat after he saved our lives,” Martin interjected, crossing his arms. 

“What’d you even do to stop it?” Melanie threw herself down on the couch near him after sweeping it with her cane to check for debris. Jon noted with a hint of a smile that she had dark, heart shaped glasses on.

“Didn’t I  _ just _ say--” 

“‘s fine, Martin. I… I’m not sure, I-I think I forced knowledge? Into its brain? Made it pause long enough for you guys to kill it, y-yeah?” 

“Seems pretty dead to me. We’d be in trouble if it could survive that.” Georgie was still staring at Jon. Jon blinked as he noticed the baby sling that she was wearing, and his eyebrows furrowed. 

“I… you found one too?”

“Huh?”

“A-a-a child, you found one?” He looked pointedly at the sling, then confusedly up at Georgie when she laughed and shook her head. She reached into the sling, and a very disgruntled Admiral was brought out. 

“It was the best way to keep him with us! We couldn’t just leave him at the flat all by himself in the apocalypse!”

Jon let out a laugh, surprising everyone, including himself. Admiral blinked at him and jumped out of Georgie’s arms, padding up to him and standing on the bit of his leg that wasn’t occupied by Sasha, who quieted immediately, reaching a small hand out to the strange new creature. 

“I take it he hasn’t been very happy to be traveling like this?”

“He’s been miserable, but I’d rather have him miserable and alive than comfortable and dead, you know?” Georgie nudged Melanie over and sat down next to her, throwing an arm around her shoulders and placing a small kiss against her head. 

“Why  _ are _ you all traveling?” Martin asked. “Wouldn’t it be safer to stay in one place? Hunker down? Wait it out?”

“Wait out  _ the apocalypse _ ?” Basira asked, incredulously. She was rummaging through one of her neatly packed bags, looking for something. 

“Yes!” 

“It  _ is _ what everyone else is doing.” 

“Thank you, Melanie!” 

“Well, a, waiting out the apocalypse gets old  _ real _ fast, and b, there’s not really any way to hide from this kinda stuff. It’s not all physical manifestations of monsters under a bed, you know?” Georgie shrugged, reaching her hand out for Admiral as he walked across Jon and Melanie to slump around her shoulders. “Might as well face it head on.” 

“Easy for  _ you _ to say,” Jon muttered, and then blinked. “Ah-- I, that came out harsher than I meant it to--”

Georgie was quiet for a moment, then shrugged. “You’re not wrong, I guess.” 

The conversation lapsed into silence for a few moments, broken when Sasha decided she had had enough of being stuck in the sling, and started to wiggle out, opening her mouth and complaining about it loudly through small grunts and yells. 

“Yes, yes, I see,” Jon answered, lifting her out carefully and setting her down on his lap. He frowned, noticing a piece of dried blood on her forehead and felt his stomach drop as he realized he had forgotten to check if she was alright-- he had put her right in harm’s way with the meat monster, and it was still there, rotting in the hallway. He wiped the piece of blood away, relieved to find no wound or lingering effects, then quickly made sure she was unharmed. “I know, I know,” he said softly as he moved her around, hearing her take issue with it. “Calm down, just checking…” 

“Wow,” Melanie said from beside him, a grin in her voice. “Finally going soft, huh? Where was this gentle, caring Jon when we were all trapped in the institute?”

“I believe he was having a bit of a breakdown? Constantly?”

Melanie snorted, ignoring the way everyone else frowned, and reached out towards Jon’s general direction with her fist curled for a fistbump. Jon paused, then slowly and deliberately pressed his fist to hers. 

“You have  _ gotta _ get better at that.”

“Yes, well--”

Basira finally found what she was looking for and held them up in the air in triumph. 

“Ah-ha!” She held a package of papers and manilla envelopes, turning and handing them to Jon. “Thought there was a chance we’d run into you, I had these just in case. Oh- uh. Do you still- … need them?” 

Jon Knew they were statements before his hands even touched the paper, and a small breath of air came rushing out of his lungs. “I-I… It’s not as bad as it was before, think the… general state of the world is helping me, a little,” he cringed as he said it, shifting Sasha to his other arm so he could leaf through them. “I-I've been exhausted, though, without them. Thank you, Basira, really.” 

Her brown eyes met his, and she nodded. Jon flipped through the statements again, then froze. The scent of the paper, the feeling of it underneath his fingertips-- it was so similar to the last statement, the one that ended it all. He felt his stomach flip as he remembered his mouth forming words he did not want to read, as he brought forth the end of the world. 

“... and, we’ll London’s in a terrible state, it’s a bit of a mess, really,” Basira was saying, replying to a question from Martin. “Honestly safer to lay low out here in the country, lot less people to get caught up in.” 

Jon shook his head and brought himself back, setting the statements down near Martin with shaking hands. 

“... Martin, when you get a chance, can you, ah…” Jon spoke softly. “Can you check the statements? Just scan them, in case…” 

Martin gave him a quizzical look and then blinked, frowning and nodding. “Yeah, yeah, of course!” 

“You don’t trust me?”

“N-no, it’s not that, Basira,” Jon was suddenly hyper aware of everyone’s attention fixed on him and he shrank backwards, letting Sasha hold his scarred hand in her tiny ones. “I-I, ah… One of the last statements, i-i-it… hm, “ He cringed, not finding any other ways to say it: 

“It’s kind of why everything’s gone to shit?”

There was silence. Then: 

“What?!” 

“What the  _ fuck _ are you talking about?” 

“ _ This is all your doing?! _ ”

The last one was from Georgie, which stung, but Jon winced and nodded. 

“ _ JONAT-- _ ”

“Now hold ON!” Martin snapped. “This is  _ not _ Jon’s fault, it wasn’t any of our faults. Elias--  _ Jonah Magnus _ caused all of this. If you want someone to blame, it’s him” 

“I’d be more inclined to believe you if you tell us what actually  _ happened, _ ” Georgie shot back. Jon sighed. Got up, giving Sasha to Martin, and went to their bags. Unzipped one of the outer pockets, fishing around to find the crumpled pieces of paper, tear and blood-stained. 

“This… t-this was hidden with the rest of the statements. Once I started reading I couldn’t stop, I… I’m sorry, _I_ _really tried--_.” 

Basira took the piece of paper. “Is it safe for us to read?” 

“I think so. I read it and nothing happened.” Martin’s face was hard, reaching out and taking one of Jon’s trembling hands with the arm that wasn’t holding Sasha. Jon, squeezed it and then let go, too anxious for touch at the moment.“... Sorry, Melanie, I’m sure they can summarize it for you, I’d--  _ we’d _ rather not revisit all the details.” 

“That’s okay, I… I can imagine the shit that went down. Nasty piece of shit.” Melanie tapped an anxious rhythm on Georgie’s arm as Georgie read. 

Jon excused himself, digging through their bags for the final cigarette he had been saving in their bags, and cracking the door open just a tad. Tried not to think about the situation, tried not to think at all, scratching absent-mindedly at his scars that seemed all too prominent now.

“ _ Jesus _ ,” Basira finally said, finishing it. Georgie shuddered. 

“So?” Martin asked, still tense. 

“What do you mean ‘so’?” 

“If you’re going to blame Jon for th--” 

“I’m not.” Basira interrupted. “Christ, Martin, calm down. I… knew it was bad, but  _ Jesus _ .” 

“Yeah.” Georgie sighed, shuddering. “We’ll just have to kill Magnus. It’s the only option.” 

They were all silent for a moment, save for the small sounds from Sasha as she tugged on Martin’s beard. Martin flipped through the statements, scanning them for anything untoward before handing them to Jon, who had stubbed out the cigarette and was sitting back next to Martin. 

“All clear,” he said quietly. “Are you going to read them now?” 

“I... I’ll do one. I’ll be in the kitchen. I-I… it’s good to see you guys.”

\---

“Jon.” 

Jon looked up, blinking and removing his glasses to rub at his eyes blearily. “Hm?” 

Georgie stood before him, carrying Sasha in her arms, the child sucking on her necklace and staring at Jon. Georgie adjusted her, resting her against her hip. “Does this mean I get to be the cool queer aunt? I’ll bring increasingly eccentric gifts to her birthdays!” 

Jon blinked again, not processing for a moment, before letting out a short laugh. “Absolutely, but you’ll have to use only your podcast advertisement freebies, so you’ll have to start working on getting children’s toys to sponsor your spooky ghost podcast.”

“Damn! Always making things harder for me, Sims,” Georgie retorted, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Jon froze, hearing his heart beat in his throat. 

“What?” 

“I… I thought you wanted nothing to do with me?” 

The table creaked slightly as Georgie sat on it, putting her feet up on the chair next to Jon, who was looking up at her, anxiously worrying his bottom lip. 

“Look, I didn’t… I didn’t have the whole picture. Only the parts that looked really bad from the outside.” She sighed. “I… I’m not going to apologize for not wanting to get involved, because I don’t think me getting involved and wrapped up would’ve helped any, but I’m sorry for treating you so harshly about it.” 

“I-It was my fault too, I could’ve handled it better-”

“ _ Jon _ .” 

“I know, I know, but-” 

“You can apologize for your stuff later, it’s my turn now.” Georgie poked his cheek as he scowled, laughing a bit. “I’m being nice to you, get used to it.” 

“... I will, but I’ll complain about it anyways,” Jon mumbled. 

“And I wouldn't expect anything less!”

Jon cracked a smile in spite of himself, the relief of the tension between them fading coming all at once. He stood up, ignoring the shout from anxiety in his brain, and pulled Georgie into a tight hug with Sasha between them. Despite the world being what it was, despite the danger, and the horror, and the nastiness of the world, He would have his ever-growing family, and that was enough for now.

**Author's Note:**

> Can you tell that I'm sad about Jon and Georgies friendship in canon. Can you tell.   
> I didn't even mean for it to end there, I just needed some self indulgent reconciliation!!!!


End file.
